A Final Plea
by HeIsMySalvation
Summary: Recovering from the transplant of Itachi's eyes, Sasuke is visited by an old friend who he thought to be dead. Ghost, genjutsu, or perhaps a figment of his imagination, can this girl he once knew dissuade him from his path of destruction? Based off a scene of Sasuke Uchiha's Story in Ultimate Ninja Storm Generations.


An eagle screeches far above his head. Though his bandaged and aching eyes can't see the creature, his sensitive hearing catches the swoosh of air passing over the feathered wings. Thunder rumbles in the distance. Though the cool breeze from the coming storm stirs the muggy air pleasantly and the raging sun is now shaded by a thick cover of clouds, the rock beneath him still carries the heat of the afternoon. The air ruffles his hair, sweeping long bangs against his cheek and tugging gently at his clothes as he sits with one knee drawn up, arm draped on top of it. Much louder than the thunder is the rush of water crashing over the cliff below him, though the spray cannot reach his perch atop the head of one of the statues bordering the valley on either side.

This, the Valley of the End, is symbolic for him in more ways than are marked by the two monuments facing each other across the waterfall. It is the end of his life in Konoha, the end of friendship, loyalty, trust. Even now, it is to mark the end to another era of his life. Tomorrow, he will join Madara on the battle field. Tomorrow, he will show the world the feared and coveted power of his brother's eyes. Tomorrow, he will begin the last stages in exacting his revenge.

A light breeze brushes past his cheek, carrying with it what feels like a leaf. It flutters on the air before drifting to a gentle halt only a few feet away.

"Hello, Sasuke-kun."

He maintains his classically stoic expression, even when an unexpected hand is placed gently on his shoulder. Neither the familiarity of the voice, nor the fact that he didn't sense the person behind him, appears to faze him in the slightest.

Taking the much smaller hand in his own, he rubs it between his fingers. It's slender and almost elegant if it weren't for the calluses and battle-earned scars.

"You're a genjutsu." He says, tossing the hand back off his shoulder.

He can almost see his old comrade shrug, "If that's true, then it won't hurt to talk to me for a minute, will it?"

"Hn," is his only reply. This isn't real. It can't be. She died. Not too long ago as a matter of fact. This isn't real. _She_ isn't here. But if so, then why is he listening to her? Perhaps out of habit. She was his only good acquaintance outside of Konoha. He always listened to her.

"This is an odd place for such a monument," the voice comments lightly. It has moved from directly behind him to the side and down as if the speaker is now sitting beside him, "It's so secluded." The voice lapses into silence for a moment before continuing. "Maybe it won't be for long though. The war is moving this way. It might become a battle ground. Maybe another famous final confrontation will happen here and they can start making a row of figures across from each other." The voice chuckles softly. "Can't you just see it? In a couple hundred years there could probably be half a dozen pairs of statues lining this valley." The speaker seems to sober a bit, "That is, if the world survives this war."

"So you want there to be more battles so you can build your statues?" he sneers.

"No. I hope that good will always rise up to battle the hatred that mars our world. For every person who loves and cares, there are at least ten who wish to destroy because of their own pain, even if they don't show it. Hatred will always be in our world because it is the natural thing to do, the easy route. People take it because they aren't strong enough to move on. They consider their hatred power, but in reality it's just weakness, the weakness of giving into their lowest and most basic human instinct: self preservation."

He stares straight ahead, fuming.

"So, you come up here to plot your revenge, eh?"

He doesn't reply.

"So. You destroy Konoha, then the world, and then you somehow feel satisfied. This is the plan, yeah?" He clenches his fist. "You think that by destroying innocent lives you can somehow fill the gap in your own?"

"I'm avenging my brother," he replies darkly, "and my clan."

"Ah. Well if avenging the Uchiha is your goal, Itachi killed them. He's dead now, but if you wish to avenge your brother's death, it seems that the one who killed him would be…" her voice doesn't continue. It doesn't need to.

"Konoha forced Itachi to do it," he snaps, his voice growing from a low growl, "They killed him and my clan!"

"Don't shirk your responsibility in this, Sasuke! Itachi never did!" He turns his head to glare blindly at the ground. With a small sigh, the voice continues, "Whether right or wrong, your brother killed the Uchiha. No one made him, no one _could_ have made him. It was his decision, his choice, and no doubt he regretted it – "

"Don't speak about Itachi!" he tries to interrupt, but her voice ignores him.

" – but he accepted it! He understood what he had done and the consequences, as well as the benefits, of those actions. _You_ killed Itachi, Sasuke. You! Not Danzō, not Konoha, not anybody! _You._"

"What do you know?!" he spits out, "You're not even real. Why are you here?!"

Again, he can picture her signature shrug. "Maybe I'm real, maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm a genjutsu, maybe I'm a ghost. Perhaps I'm simply a figment of your imagination, in which case I'd only be telling you things that you already know."

"Hn. My mind knows only revenge. It wouldn't try to dissuade me."

"Perhaps it's not Konoha that your revenge is so set on, though that's where you've directed it. Perhaps you truly hate yourself for being so consumed with hatred in the first place. It's a path you took long ago and now you don't know how to get off it." The voice rises as if the speaker has stood. "But when the world is over and all lies in ruins, where will you direct your hatred then, Sasuke? You will have no one else to channel your so called 'righteous' revenge towards. Your hatred will have nowhere to turn except back towards yourself. All the finger pointing will be over, Sasuke, and it will destroy you."

He's silent, contemplating her words but still not accepting them. His vision is too tunneled, his views to warped. He's ceased to care what happens to the world, or himself. Through his bandaged and blinded eyes he can only see one thing…Konoha, and it is burning.

"You see Konoha now," the voice continues after a long pause, almost as if she can read his mind, "You see an evil place dripping with corruption and foul power, but don't look at that vision, look at your past. Remember Team 7, your friends, the family that you had, all the laughter, the peace, and the prosperity that _you_ enjoyed there. When you destroy Konoha, you're not destroying the warped, evil reign of power. This…_this_ is what you're destroying."

The air behind him shifts in a spiral, pushing outward as it makes room for another being on top of the monument's head.

He ignores the new figure for a moment, lifting his head to the sky as he inhales the ever-sweet scent of the coming rain. Disturbing images run through his mind, images he's all but left behind. He may view the future through narrowed eyes, but he sees his deep past with eyes wide open. He's aware of what he had and what he's lost. And maybe, in moments like these, he's not sure who he's angry at anymore. At the village? Itachi? Himself? At his friends for not stopping him? In this moment his ultimate hatred is dissolved by hurt and a longing for something he can never grasp.

Instead of the terrible image of his slaughtered clan, which always serves to fuel his hatred, now all he can picture is his brother, staggering towards him, blood dripping from outstretched fingers.

"_I'm sorry, Sasuke," Itachi smiles, "This is it." _

_A thud of a head on the wall next to him, then dull grey eyes staring sightlessly up at the sky. _

Sorrow pools in his eyes and spills over to drip down his cheeks in the form of tears. He can hear them splash on the warm rock beneath him. Soon those splashes are met by other, more numerous and heavy splashes as the sky begins to cry with him. Easily washing his sorrow and regret away, he's only left with a sudden, dull ache in his chest. There it is, his hatred. Always waiting for him. Always reeling him back in when he might lose sight of his goal.

"We're going to freeze out here," the figure who appeared behind him states, "Let's go back."

Pushing himself up off the ground, he walks across the monuments heading towards the figure. A short, sudden gust of wind tugs past his face, making him pause and turn back towards the waterfall where the wind seems to have run off to.

"What is it?" the figure asks, it's deep voice sending a shiver of irritation down his spine.

Voices, familiar ones, all calling his name. He heard them, _Sasuke. Sasuke-kun! Teme! Otouto…We still care._

"It's nothing," he continues towards the figure once again.

As a rough hand is placed on his shoulder, a much lighter one squeezes his arm gently from behind. His comrade's voice rings in his ears once again, "I'll always be your friend. No matter how you let your hatred destroy yourself, or others...I promise. I'll never truly leave you."

He feels himself wavering between this dimension and another as the figure draws him through the gap that separates the two. _Arigatou_ he thinks as he feels the last of his body spiral out of the touch of the comforting hand on his arm.

The air on top of the monument stands still, silent except for the continued rush of the waterfall. Finally, a small tug of wind pulls a sad sigh into its breeze. Dragged by the short gust, the leaf resting on top of the stone scrapes across the statue's surface until it reaches the edge and surges down into the valley below.


End file.
